different ways of being
by Four Leafed Clove
Summary: Audrey White is no fool. She knows Percy hated her. She's a Ravenclaw. She knows everything. So what can get her blushing?


"Who are you?" I ask. There's a boy trying to get into my compartment. He has curly red hair and horn-rimmed glasses. He peers at me.

"I-You don't know who I am," He says, blinking. He cocks his head at me and I shrug.

"Problem?" I ask, sticking out my chin. He blinks a few times.

"Uh, no, I guess not. Anyways, I'm Percy - Percy Weasley," Percy tells me. I nod.

"I'm Audrey. Audrey White." I grin.

"Nice to meet you, Audrey," He says, "Can I sit in here?"  
"Sure thing," I say, "Though only if you tell me what the hell a Hufflepuff is."

"Hufflepuff is one of the four houses at Hogwarts," He informs me, flashing a card in my face. It winks at me and smiles. Cards don't do that. Ever. I start to breathe rapidly and panic. Maybe he's an alien trying to eat my brains? Maybe they all are! Maybe they're vampires! I push back my hair and stare at him.

"Why did that card move?" I ask suspiciously. He stares at me.

"Didn't you read all your books?" He asks. I nod.

"There was never anything in there about moving cards!" I exclaim. He rolls his eyes and sighs.

"Look at the front!" Percy snaps. I pull a book out and stare at the front.A person waves up at me.

"Oh." I say, rather stupidly. He laughs.

"Yeah. Oh. Anyways, have you met my older brothers, Charlie and Bill? Charlie's in fourth year, he plays seeker, and Bill's a Prefect." He explains.

"Seeker? What's that for?" I ask.

"Here," He says, "Read this." He hands me a tattered book with 'Quidditch throughout the ages' written on it.

"Thanks," I say. For the next hour I read it and he practises spells. Then I slam the book shut.

"Alright, I need to see this to believe this," I say bluntly, "How can a broomstick _fly_?" He chuckles.

"Did you think that was a cleaning shop in Diagon Alley?" He raises his eyebrows. I blush.  
"I don't know what I thought that was!" I say defensively.

"Sure!" He says.

And I pinch him on the bridge of his nose.

"Don't get all _attitude _with me!" I snap.

"Fine," He said firmly, "You'll be sorry when _I _become Minister for Magic and refuse to let you work there because of our _bad history_!"

"Bring it!" I glared at him, poking my tongue out. He stood up and stomped out of the compartment. I sigh and pet my kitten, Pianissimo, or Piani for short, and she purrs loudly. Then she sits of a book and begins to lick herself clean. I grimace at her and pull out my wand. I get an old-fashioned quill out of my bag and sit it down neatly in front of me on the opposite seat.  
"_Wingardium Leviosa_," I whisper. The quill airily floats upwards, higher, higher, higher. Then Piani meows and breaks my concentration. The quill falls to the seat as I scowl. Piani's book is not just any book; it's Percy Weasley's book. I stow it into my bookbag and promise to never return it.

* * *

There's something wrong. I've packed _perfectly _but there's no room for one of my carefully folded Ravenclaw socks. I bite my lip and slowly unpack everything.

When I say slowly, I mean efficiently, or as efficiently as you can unpack when things have been packed for a month and you only just finished knitting another pair of socks. and at the bottom of my trunk, when I get there, is a rat-chewed, cat-clawed, water-stained, potion-ingredients-stuck-in-the-biding copy of 'Quidditch Throughout the Ages.' I swallow harshly. I need to return it. It's not mine. Oh no. As it clearly states on the very first page in painstaking handwriting, this book belongs to Percival Ignatius Weasley. Oh, don't even go there. But I have to return.

* * *

So that's how I find myself in the same compartment as Percy for the first time in five years. And boy, he's grown. His face has grown quite handsome, few freckles left. A shiny prefect badge glints in the sunlight. But he has a crush on Penelope Clearwater. Everybody knows that.

"I believe I have something of yours," I can't be bothered to be polite.

"What, White?" He growls. I hand him the book and his eyebrows lift in surprise.

"It's Audrey, Percy." I tell him, "You know that." He flushes.

"I believe you're a good kisser," He says. I go as red as his hair. I briefly dated Oliver Wood last year, and I suppose the stupid Gryffindor must've blabbed.

"It's a rumour," I say sharply. His eyes scan me up and down.

"I like Penelope," He whispers, "It's true. But I don't kiss very well. Could you help?" Kissing tutoring? I didn't even know it was real.

"Sure," I sigh, "Show me what you're made of," He leans over and, awkwardly, kisses me. We haven't spoken properly in years, though we've briefly caught sight of each other before. I feel myself blushing all over. Surprisingly, he's good. Or maybe it's just me. But he kisses like he means it, not like I'm some toy. I pull away and grin.

"Well," I say, "Look who got an O,"

He grins back.


End file.
